


Slow Burn To Happiness

by BookLabrynth



Category: Archie Comics, Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Angst, Character Death, Depression, Eventual Fluff, Eventual Smut, Eventual barchie, Friends to Lovers, Grief/Mourning, One Night Stands, Sex, Smut, Strangers to Lovers, eventual bughead, everything is eventually, trigger warning
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-24
Updated: 2021-02-24
Packaged: 2021-03-14 15:41:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29669496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BookLabrynth/pseuds/BookLabrynth
Summary: This is a fic about a young girl, Betty Cooper, who, through loss and grief, looses herself. And the emotional journey she must go on to find herself again.It is completely AU, and you may not like how I portray some of the characters but just trust me.A lot of sensitive topics in this, do not read if you may be triggered by death; grief; self harm; depression;  alcoholism.
Relationships: Alice Cooper/FP Jones II, Archie Andrews/Betty Cooper, Betty Cooper/Jughead Jones
Comments: 1
Kudos: 6





	Slow Burn To Happiness

**Author's Note:**

> I am hoping to get maybe one chapter a week out, I so far have an outlining for three chapters, but we will see. Make sure you bookmark to find out when it’s been updated!
> 
> Also comments and kudos are much appreciated.
> 
> A lot of this has been derived from my own life and experiences. More than I care to admit, I will leave that up to your own imagination.

“Today is the first day to the rest of your life.” That’s what they say when you graduate high school. And boy! They weren’t kidding. Betty’s first year at college went great. She was great. All her professors told her so. But of course she was great - she was Betty Cooper. She had been conditioned from a child to be nothing but perfect. Betty was first chair violin in the Riverdale High Orchestra, something she had absolutely no intentions on pursuing after graduation. She was top of the pyramid on the cheer squad, also something she didn’t wish to pursue. She was however, editor in chief of the school newspaper, something she was very interested in pursuing - even if it was only her and her best friend, Kevin. They where the perfect team, Betty with her investigative journalism and Kevin with his sheriff father. 

All the while, Betty kept a 3.8 gpa. It could of been a 4.0 but, whatever. Her parents, Hal & Alice Cooper, where definitely more cut up about her “humiliating” grade point average than she was. Especially her mother. Alice even went as far as meeting with her Principal and asking for a little leniency due to effort - she was obviously laughed right out of that particular meeting. Betty and her mother always had a way of rubbing each other up the wrong way, leading to harsh words and slamming of doors. Her father would always end up in the middle, waiting for the storm to settle before creeping into Betty’s room to comfort her. He would take her to Pops and let her order anything she wanted, fuck the strict diet Alice had her on. He taught her how to ride a bike, how to fix a car engine up and let her drive the truck home from school when it was free. And when her high school boyfriend, Reggie, had cheated on her after 18 months, it was Hal who’s shoulder she cried upon. He was like her best friend. Her favourite confidant.

But then Hal got sick, the summer before her softmore year, and Betty decided to drop out of college and head back home. Her parents begged her not to, but she reasoned she would rather drop out now and pick up back up in a year or two then flunk out - which she knew she would if she stayed because how the hell would she be able to concentrate on anything while her father lay at home unwell. So she packed up her dorm room, hugged her roommate and promised to keep in touch, and they would even if only for the first couple weeks. By winter break Betty’s mom, Alice, had returned to work, struggling to pay the bills without any means of income. This left Betty as main care giver to her father. Sure they had help, someone from the hospital, a middle aged woman called Kathleen, who came around every couple of days to make sure he was comfortable. On one of those visits Kathleen had told Betty how proud she should be for doing such a good job looking after her father and asked her if she would be willing to make a career out of it once all this is over. “Oh no. Thank you, but this is just until he gets well enough for me to go back to college.” 

“Betty.” Kathleen said in shock. “I thought your mother explained this to you already? He won’t be getting better. This is it, Betty.” The nurse looked at the young girl with sympathy in her eyes and put her card on the console table near the bedroom door, tapping it twice before heading out. 

It wasn’t as if it was a shock to her, Betty had known just from looking at her father that he didn’t have very long left, but hearing it out loud had definitely made it hit home - the only way this was going to be over was through the loss of her father. The man who took her to all of her ballet classes when she was in middle school and snook her pieces of candy when her mom wasn’t looking. He was going to die. She would never again here him call her into the garage from the drive way for help fixing a car. He would never get to see her graduate from college, or walk her down the isle, or hold his first grandchild. He would never get to see what she makes of herself. And from that day it all played over and over I her mind, all the moments she was never going to get to have. She thought about it when she dressed him each morning, when she fed him his meals, administered his medication four times a day, when she read him the Penguin classics from beside his bed. When she would squeeze in next to him to watch old black and white movies. Alice had taken the responsibility of showering and putting Hal to bed each evening, so once her mother arrived home from work she was technically off duty, free to go out and enjoy a little normalcy, but she wouldn’t dare, lest anything happen and she hadn’t been there for it. Betty yearned for the easy, carefree life she had lived back in high school, although she would never admit it, but still nothing could of prepared her for how she felt, heading into his room one bright April morning to find he had already passed. 

They say it’s during the hard times that show who your real friends are. Well in that case she only ever had a couple of real friends. Kevin, who was currently working at an army base a couple miles out of town, the texts where few and far between but she knew if he could be there in a flash he would be. And then Veronica, her high school best friend, she had there for her every step of the way, she even came home from college for the funeral. Her old friend Archie had also texted her to let her know he was thinking about her and to let him know if she needed anything, he was only next door. But other than that she didn’t hear a peep from anybody. None of her friends from college, or the girls from the cheer squad she would of called her sisters just a year ago. Her mom said it was because pain makes people uncomfortable. They don’t know what to say so they just don’t say anything. But Betty didn’t need them to say anything, she just wanted somebody to hold her when she was down, she was all alone once V headed back out to college. She longed for someone to keep her company, distract her from how cold and lonely her childhood home had become. 

“I can’t afford to support you any more, Betty.” Her mom had told her, sat at the breakfast table just five short weeks after her dad died. 

“I know mom. I’m sorry. It’s too late in the year for me to go back to college now. But once fall comes I’ll be out of your hair.”

“Maybe you could get a job until then.” Alice suggested, handing her daughter a peeled orange. 

“Doing what? I’m qualified for nothing.”

“Not nothing. You still have Kathleen's card right? Give her a call, I’m sure she would be happy to help you.” 

And it was no surprise that Kathleen was in deed happy to help. She used her contacts to find Betty a job at a Palliative Care Centre. Basically a place people would go to die and Betty would provide care for them in their last days the same way she did her father. It was good for her, feeling like she had a place where she belonged. It was only supposed to be temporary, but once summer came Betty announced she wouldn’t be returning to college this year either. “They need me at the home mom.” She admitted.

“Oh your just using that place as an excuse.” Alice said with a swat of her hand and a grimace.

“Your the one who pushed me to get a job in the first place. And so what if I am. I’m not ready to go back.” Betty paused for a second, mentally debating with herself weather she should mention to her mother about her feelings. “Also.” She swallowed the excess saliva that was gathering in her mouth and took a deep breath before diving in. “I think I might be depressed. I’ve been having these thoughts and”

“Oh Betty. Don’t be so dramatic.” Alice interrupted her with a giggle. “Your not depressed. You would know about it if you where depressed. I would of noticed by now if my own daughter was depressed.” Alice walked around the breakfast table to sit next to her daughter, placing a hand on her shoulder, brushing her hair from her face. “Most people don’t loose a parent so young, I can understand that it’s hard for you right now. Maybe if you spent some more time with your grandparents you might be able to feel that connection with your father. They’re hurting too you know. They miss you.” 

“I know, mom. I will. I promise.” Betty said feeling defeated about how her mother had shot her down, as usual. But Alice was right. She hadn’t been visiting her grandparents enough. She would have to make more of an effort. 

Grandma and Grandpa Cooper where the stereotypical all-American doting grandparents. Grandpa had an old car out back, the one he had bought when he was 17, that Betty would play around in as a kid and he would let her watch him as he tinkered around with the engine, telling her the different parts and how they worked as he went along. Obviously that was where both Hal and Betty had inherited the gearhead gene from. Whenever she would visit he would slip her a little brown envelope with about 5 bucks inside, all in quarters and dimes. When she was little Betty would love to sit at the kitchen table and count it all up, but as she got older it just gave her that nostalgic feeling that she couldn’t turn away, happy that somethings never change. Betty’s Grandma was a tall slim lady who loved nothing more than to fuss on and feed her granddaughter. She would make these little desserts out of crackers, freshly whipped cream and strawberries which she was certain only her grandmother could make delicious. Alice would send her ‘the look’ signalling that she had eaten too much. “A life time on the hips, Elizabeth.” She would mutter under her breath before her grandma would tell her to hush, placing another serving on Betty’s plate, sending her a little wink. 

Even after Hal’s death, Alice remained close with her former in-laws. Even if she never had the guts to tell them she had changed her name back to Smith just three months after losing her husband. Alice had had a difficult upbringing, part of the reason why she was so strict with her own daughter. She had never really had a relationship with them past high school, but her in-laws where always kind and welcomed her into their home like she had been there all along. They often disagreed on how she would parent but they never over stepped their mark. 

But after Betty’s dad died, their son, her grandparents where never the same. He never went out to the car, she started drinking, they stopped going out, both lost a lot of weight. They became just mere shadows of the people Betty knew growing up. She noticed the tremble to her grandmothers hand as she poured her coffee, the way her grandfathers face would flush and his breath would quicken as he came down the stairs. It it still came as a enormous shock when the phone rang at 3 one Thursday morning. 

Her grandpa had always sort of had ill-health. But last time she had seen him she definitely wouldn’t of thought he was at the end of his life. His death came as a great shock. One none of them where prepared for. It hit her grandmother the hardest. She became frail, shrunken, lost what little weight she had left, and when she too past just three months later, 3 months after her husband, 10 months after her son, the town would say she died of a broken heart. 

A couple days after her grandmother had passed, everybody gathered at the small tavern near their house for the wake. It was only suppose to be close family and friends for an hour or two, but one drink turned into another and then another and as midnight approached, Alice reached over to whisper in Betty’s ear that she had had enough to drink. She gave her daughter her bank card and sent her to the bar “a glass of wine for me, and just a water for you, Elizabeth.” She warned. Betty scoffed, “two glasses of water, please.” She asked the lady at the bar. 

To say her mother was surprised when Betty sat the glass of water down in front of her was an understatement. “I’ve drank the same amount as you have mom. I’ve I’m on water then so are you.”

“Do not show me up right now, Elizabeth.” Alice hissed to her daughter, throwing her purse under her arm and guiding her daughter out by her elbow. “You are still under age young lady.”

“By 11 months!” Betty argued, throwing her hands out in exasperation.

“I don’t care. You are under age and this is your grandmothers wake. Don’t you think this family has been through enough? You will go home this instant before you ruin it with your selfish behaviour.”

“Sure. Because I’m the selfish one, mom.” Betty laughed under her breath and turned to walk in the direction of home. The fact that her mother would rather have her walk home alone in this state than be embarrassed by her drunken daughter, speaking volumes. 

The next day they went on like nothing happened. Putting on brave faces for the service. Betty remained strong at first, wanting to do everybody proud, be the perfect Betty Cooper, but as the weeks went on, she couldn’t stop thinking about what the minister had said at her grandmothers funeral, that she didn’t know how to live without her true love and she wondered if she would ever have anything like that. She yearned for it. To be loved. Wanted. Desired. So she began going out on dates. One after the other. They where awkward at first. “You know, with the right fitness regimen, you could actually be hot.” That one guy she met at the coffee shop had said with a spank to the side of her butt, as if that was the kind of thing you would say to somebody on a first date, a compliment even. But still, maybe dating is what she needs. Something to make her feel good again. 

There was the guy with the tattoos. One arm was covered in colourful comic themed ink, while the other seemed to be a mix match of things from a knife at his wrist to a ketchup bottle on his bicep. All of which she could look past, up until he turned around to put his pants back on and she seen the bloody eye ball tattooed on each of his butt cheeks. She was glad he never texted her after that night. 

Then there was Paul, a bigger guy who treated her nicely, called her baby and told her how beautiful she was every time he seen her. But then when he told her he loved her after just two we of dating, she knew she couldn’t continue seeing him. And Simon, the 24 year old virgin who’s idea of a romantic date was Betty giving him head in the back seat of his shitty car and never returning the favour. 

Next came Kane, he was a couple of years older than her, 26 and had what her mother would call a real job and his own apartment. He also had a couple tattoos, nice ones like a rosary on his left forearm and some sports phrase about striking out on the right. But Betty was sure, if they hid them well, her mother would love him. They dated for 9 weeks. Going to the movies, for a walk around Pickens Park, fancy restaurants. Real dates. But what it really came down to was what started out as essentially pillow talk. They where laying in his neatly made bed, still sticky from a couple hours of what can only be described as really good sex, Kane asked her where she seen their relationship going, and Betty told him what she thought he had wanted to hear - we’re just having fun; nothing too serious; we don’t need to label what we have. He had kissed her cheek and changed the subject, but then after dropping her off back home that night, he had texted her to say he couldn’t do it anymore. He was catching feelings. And him being “more mature” than her, he needed more from their time together, he needed somebody who would love him. And how could Betty argue him on that one? All these guys and nothing. She could even say she had developed feelings for Kane, but she knew she could never admit that to him. She could never bare herself to somebody else like that. Would he believe her even if she did?

After that the guys got a little strange. She woke one morning, after a summer night out with Veronica to a text that read “I want to paint you green and spank you like a naughty avocado.” And Betty had no idea who it was from until Veronica had reminded her of the guy she had hooked up with in the men’s toilets of the club. Big mistake. And although the nights out still became a regular occurrence that summer, Betty swore she would stay away from dating. But that didn’t stop her from having a bit of fun along the way. Betty was ashamed to admit that she had once been making out with a guy before discovering that he was in fact out on his stage do. Another time, her and some guy she had met at the club had gone out back, he took her up against the wall, and it was only afterwards that she found out that the guy had been Paul’s best friend and that he had seen them dashing out the back door together. That one in particular had caused a bit of a tiff between Betty and Veronica. 

“We all like sex, Betty. But have some self respect will you.”

“Hey!” Betty interjected, feeling a little offended.

“No Betty, I’ve sat around long enough and watch you. Your spiralling.”

“You don’t get to tell me how to live my life V. I get that I’m fucked up right now. I get that. I don’t need you to rub it in my face. We can’t all be perfect little Daddy’s girls. Some of us have to take what we can get and be grateful.”

“You bring it all on yourself, Betty! Is there anyone in this god forsaken town you haven’t fucked?!You put it out there that your a slut, men are going to treat you like a slut. And then you push away every guy that actually wants to stick around.” 

Betty had gone home alone, crying in the cab that night. The sex really did make her feel better though. Not only did the tension in her head subside as each orgasm washed over her, but the way guys would talk about her. They would tell her how good she felt, how perfect her body was, she was hot, she was sexy, beautiful, incredible. Guys always had something good to say about you while you had their cocks in your mouth and between your legs. It made her feel good, that somebody wanted her, even just for a night or two. 

After that night at the club, her and Veronica had stopped going out for drinks, they would text and go out for coffee or food, but Ronnie was adamant that her best friend needed to stay away from alcohol, and men, for the time being. But still, Betty would do a full shift in work, get ready for her dates in the staff changing room, one of the girls who worked nights would wash her uniform for her and have it ready for the next morning. They all thought she had a boyfriend that she didn’t want to share just yet and she wasn’t about to tell them any different. She couldn’t tell them she would go out for dinner with these strangers she would meet on various dating sites, before heading back to their place, or their parents. She would stay the night and make the walk of shame back to work in the morning. Anything just so she didn’t have to go home and face her mother. Alice and Betty had been avoiding each other since their big blow out, it seemed Ronnie had had a point about her pushing people away. On the other nights, the ones when she had nowhere else to go, she would end crying, alone in her room. 

It was on one of those lonely nights, Betty had just gotten out of the shower, steam filling the bathroom and her brain was a little hazy from the three glasses of Jack Daniels and coke she had swug down on an empty stomach. She sat on the toilet staring at the razor on the edge of the bath. She picked it up and twirled it in her fingers, looking closely at the three little razor blades inside. Before she knew what she was doing, she stood and opened the vanity drawer and took out the little pair of scissors in there. Betty sloppily sniped at the edges of the razor, breaking away the protective plastic casing that housed the razor blades until they where finally free. The rest of the evening was blurred in her memory, all she would remember is that she woke the next day to stinging on her biceps and the tops of her thighs. 

That went on for a couple weeks. Every night she would cut herself just once or twice, squeezing fresh, deep red lines in between older ones. All at different stages of heeling. During those weeks she didn’t go on a single date. She went to work, she came home. Betty and Alice ate supper in silence, before Betty would excuse herself. She would shower then retreat back to her bedroom, staying there until morning, then getting up and doing it all over again. During those hours she was alone in her room she would dig out a bottle of whiskey which she bought from the dingy little liquor store - legally since she turned 21 a couple months ago, an event lacking any sort of celebration - and she would sit at her dresser, opening up a small Pandora charm box from beside her jewellery box to find those little razor blades inside.

Her mother never noticed of course. Neither did anybody at work. She had absentmindedly cast herself away from her friends, so they weren’t really around to notice either. So if nobody was noticing, then there wasn’t really any reason to stop. Was there? It was easier to keep cutting if she didn’t think anybody was getting hurt in the process. Well. Anyone accept her. 

Betty was getting herself ready for bed one evening, doing her skincare routine that she always struggled to keep on top of even though she never really suffered with her skin in the first place. 

“Everything ok over there?” A text popped up on her screen. Betty’s head whipped around to find Archie, her old friend and next door neighbour stood at his own bedroom window, peering across the dark garden hidden below and into hers. 

“Just fine, thank you.” She quickly text back. 

Betty bit her lip and thought back to all the fun they used to have as kids. The friendship they had had. Him and Veronica had briefly dated back in high school, just for a couple months. But it had been years. Surely it would be ok if they...

“Do you want to come over?”


End file.
